A small price to pay for freedom
by DrinkCocoa
Summary: Five years after the house-elves working at Hogwarts were freed by Hermione, Harry sends his young house-elf on a mission.


Nobby, a young house-elf who was currently employed by Harry Potter, had a mission. Harry wanted him to find Worky, an old house-elf, who used to work at Hogwarts. This was before Hermione Granger's actions freed all of them some five years prior.

Fortunately, Nobby knew where to find most of the ex-Hogwarts workers. After they fell into Hermione's trap and found themselves wearing badly-knitted hats, they emigrated to Argentina in hopes of a better life.

Nobby had information that they were now staying at a tavern in Buenos Aires, which was available only to house-elves. The young house-elf imagined them resting happily, drinking their hard-earned cocktails after decades of work in the gigantic castle.

The tavern's door squeaked as Nobby pulled them open, the sunlight briefly illuminating the dingy interior. There were house-elves everywhere, most notably on the dusty wooden floor, seemingly sleeping with bottles of various — certainly alcoholic — beverages scattered around their bodies. The foul stench in the air made Nobby gag, his pointy nose used to the far more pleasant smells of the Potters' household.

The few house-elves that were actually conscious were sitting near the bar, drinking Firewhiskey and arguing loudly. They were too drunk to notice Nobby's presence, so he made his way over slowly, trying to avoid the bodies lying on the floor.

"I told you, we should've just killed that who—"

"Excuse me," Nobby interrupted their heated argument.

The four house-elves eyed Nobby warily, their eyes squinting as they saw his clean clothes.

"And who the hell are you?"

Nobby swallowed nervously. "My name is Nobby. I'm looking for Worky. Is he here?"

The house-elves started laughing, their voices sounding strangely hollow and more than a little crazy. "You're looking for Worky? Sorry, son, but he's not with us anymore."

"Where is he?" asked Nobby, flinching as one of the bodies on the ground touched his foot.

The oldest house-elf shook his head and took a sip out of his bottle. "Worky's dead."

"Dead?" Nobby mumbled dumbly.

The house-elf nodded his head and sighed. "Yes. The old bastard killed himself two years ago. Took a gun one night and just shot his brains out. All that's left of him is his bloodied hat."

Nobby took a seat, feeling his legs give out. _Worky killed himself?_

"Why would he do something like that?" asked Nobby, his voice quiet.

One of the drunkards eyed him angrily. "_Why would he do that?_ Merlin, kid, where have you been for the past few years? Under a rock?"

"What do you mean?" mumbled Nobby, his head starting to hurt.

"Look at us!" The house-elf waved his hand in the direction of the unconscious bodies. "We're free! We're _enjoying_ our freedom!"

The oldest house-elf spat on the floor hearing the word. "That we are … that we are …" he said and took another sip from his almost-empty bottle. "But you," he eyed Nobby, "you aren't free, are you?"

Nobby shook his head. "I'm working for Harry Potter," he said warily.

The house-elf's eyes lit up at that name. "Harry Potter? Tell me, does he still keep in touch with one Hermione Granger?"

The other house-elves grumbled darkly, some of them muttering insults under their breath.

"Sometimes," Nobby answered, feeling sweat begin to form on his forehead. _I should get out of here._

"Then tell me, Nobby," the oldest house-elf started. "Would you like to give these depressed folk a reason to live? A reason to keep on going?"

"What … what are you talking about?"

The house-elf grinned, his face twisting into a disgusting grimace. "Take us to Hermione Granger. We should … thank her for the _freedom, _after all."

Nobby felt his arms being grabbed by two house-elves, his head pinned violently to a table.

"Take us to Hermione Granger …" he heard a whisper in his ear, "or die."

* * *

Harry Potter has never seen Nobby again, after sending him out on that errand.

Harry chuckled to himself as he took a sip from his glass of Firewhiskey. Maybe Nobby met the other house-elves and also wanted to be free? Anyhow, Harry wasn't going to search for his young servant. He was probably happier with his own folk anyway.

_Here's to you, Nobby. Be free._

* * *

_**A/N:**_ This was written for the second round of the Houses Competition, year 5.

**Team:** Lions

**Class Subject:** DADA

**Story Category:** Drabble

**Prompt:** [Character] A house elf other than Dobby or Kreacher

**Word Count:** 710


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